They envision Jackie Gleason in the part of Elvis’s agent Colonel Tom Parker and Elizabeth Taylor in the role of his mother. But finding the right hipswiveller to fill Presley’s blue suede shoes and black leather pants is another story. Already 163 Elvis Presley imitators, looking very sullen and very ’50s, have auditioned in New York for the title role in the movie The King of Rock and Roll, but the talent search is likely to continue in Los Angeles and London. One man partly responsible for casting the legend is scriptwriter and consultant George Klein, 43, a lifelong friend of the late singer. After listening—and indeed snickering—at various sound-alike renditions of Love Me Tender and Heartbreak Hotel, Klein admitted: “At first I turned down any offer dealing with Elvis because I didn’t want to capitalize on a friendship. God knows, I never used him when he was alive and I don’t want to use him when he’s dead.” Klein finally agreed to part with his inside knowledge of Elvis when producers told him they planned to make the movie with or without his help.
frà iven that every man’s home is his viiJ castle, no one argued with Vancouver’s Edgar Fosburgh Kaiser Jr. when he ordered “Down with the thing” and set a nine-man demolition crew to the task of destroying his four-year-old, $300,000 mansion overlooking English Bay. In what demolition boss Phil Blackall termed the “hardest house to dismantle” in his 20-year career, wreckers took . crowbars to the teak and cedar interior, hammered through the two granite fireplaces and tore up a 100-foot swimming pool to make room for the $600,000 home Kaiser plans to build. Although the body of the house is gone, workers managed to salvage some 250 light fixtures and $35,000 worth of doubleglazed windows, a saving which should please the 36-year-old grandson of U.S. Steel magnate Henry J. Kaiser. According to Kaiser’s public relations staff, the demolition job was an example of cost saving. “He wanted to make alterations to the house, but was told it would be cheaper to level it and start again.”
f"V7eeping in mind that French actress LAA Catherine Deneuve (Repulsion, Les Parapluies de Cherbourg) has a soft spot for “mature men,” Quebec publicists for her new movie, An Adventure for Two, have planned a quiet little dinner party for her Saturday night following her arrival in Quebec this week. And
guess who’s coming to dinner? Premier René Lévesque and his two top cultural ministers, Camille Laurin and Denis Vaugeois, have been invited, along with the
film’s director Claude Lelouch (Cat and Mouse) and star Jacques Dutronc. Naturally, finding a fitting location for the soiree in time is a key factor and party organizers are currently torn between two possible sites. The first choice is the
country home of Roger Lemelin, publisher of Montreal’s pro-federalist La Presse. It’s cozy there and the fireplaces do roar, but perhaps they will have more luck getting René to RSVP in the positive if they throw the bash in politically neutral territory at the Auberge des Gouverneurs hotel in Quebec City.
¿¡Ylthough he generally dislikes the ¿-a movie-making tradition whereby “the same day you meet your leading lady you both take off your clothes and hop into bed,” actor George Peppard (Banacek) does make exceptions. In fact, before the Toronto filming of his latest made-for-TV movie Torn Between Two Loves, Peppard asked to shoot the bedroom scenes with his romantic lead Lee Remick right off the bat. “She’s very easy to work with,” said Peppard, which was more than he could say for his former wife and leading lady Elizabeth Ashley, who claimed in her recently published autobiography, Actress-Postcards from the Road, that the silverhaired star once whacked her with a hot frying pan. Naturally, Peppard denies the whole thing as a “malicious fantasy.” Although it won’t make the bestseller list, Peppard is planning his own version of the truth. “I’m preparing -a manuscript about the book’s untruths. It’s for my 10-year-old son, when he grows up.”
r\ ndrew Young came down with anZrA other severe case of foot-in-mouth diplomacy last week. The U.S. ambassador to the United Nations, known for his embarrassing, offhand foreign policy remarks, said that Iran’s Ayatollah Khomeini will eventually be seen as “a saint.” So far, the White House hasn’t recognized Khomeini as anything other than a powerful religious leader and a thorn in the side of Prime Minister Shapour Bakhtiar’s shaky government which President Jimmy Carter has been trying to support. In a mild rebuke, White House spokesman Jody Powell commented: “It is the president’s view that the government of the United States is not in the business of canonization, and particularly does not consider it Ambassador Young’s business.”
Ot has all the familiar earmarks of an Ian Fleming thriller—the improbable but mechanical contraptions, the exotic trouble spots and the dastardly villain with his comely assistants. Yet, despite the fact that 007’s tuxedo remains requisitely unwrinkled in the upcoming James Bond movie Moonraker, our hero, played by Britain’s Roger Moore (The Saint), is beginning to show his age. Moore, who is currently shooting his fourth Bond role in Rio de Janeiro, is
now 52, middle-aged even by a special agent’s standards. Even more unBondian is the fact that Moore’s wife, former actress Luisa Mattioli, travels with him, hovering around the set like the archetypal Italian matriarch. Although two Bond films remain to be
made (Moonraker is No. 11), this could be Moore’s last gasp as the legendary spy. Said his wife: “Personally, I think he has done enough.” Conceded Moore: “Luisa and I have a perfect arrangement. She makes the big decisions. I make the small ones.”
ow do I love thee? Poet Irving Layton will count the ways and the royalties since he has produced a Valentine’s Day gift for lovers who are neither weak of wallet nor leery of literary investment. In honor of Feb. 14, two special limited editions entitled The Love Poems of Irving Layton will be available in bookstores for people with an eye beyond chocolates and roses. The luxury edition, 25 suede-bound, goldstamped copies which sell for $1,000 each, could be just the gift for the deeply committed. But a cheaper lot of 200, priced at $100 apiece, might be better for the faint of heart. Already, eight of the $1,000 books have been pre-sold through Ottawa’s Sheila Leishman Books Ltd. Romantic bureaucrats? “Not really,” said David Dollin at Leishman’s. “We sold to serious collectors.
The books won’t end up as presents. They’ll probably go straight into bank vaults.”
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